


Fading into the dark

by Pebblesong7



Series: Bad things happen bingo [2]
Category: Prodigal Son (TV 2019)
Genre: Bad Things Happen Bingo, Blood from the mouth, Gil Arroyo Needs a Hug, Gil Arroyo is Malcolm Bright's Parent, Malcolm "Danger magnet" Bright, Malcolm Bright Needs a Hug, Malcolm Bright Whump, Malcolm gets stabbed, Martin Whitly Loves Malcolm Bright, Nausea, Not Malcolm its a criminal, Protective Gil Arroyo, Stabbing, Suicide, a whole family gets murdered at the start be warned
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-26
Updated: 2021-02-26
Packaged: 2021-03-17 22:55:30
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,815
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29724501
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pebblesong7/pseuds/Pebblesong7
Summary: When one of Martin's victims gets involved, Malcolm is the one who gets caught in the crossfire.
Series: Bad things happen bingo [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2184204
Kudos: 36





	Fading into the dark

Sometimes, Malcolm almost forgot about how awful life could be. It was a very hard thing to forget considering the job he was in, so Malcolm considered it a sign of his positive attitude that it could happen even if only for a few moments. 

Since he was 10 years old, all he heard about was death. Any friends he had vanished when they learned that his father was the monster that hid under the bed, after all why would they ever believe that the son of the devil could be anything different. Their parents would pretend to be better but everyone knew what was said behind closed doors. “That boy isn’t right in the head” they said, “he’ll be just like his father, wait and see” they said. For Malcolm, the only person who didn’t treat him like a monster was his father. Take that for irony. 

People like Malcolm don’t forget how awful the world can be, they are made by how awful the world can be. But every now and then, there would be a case that went beyond all that you could imagine. This was that case. 

“What have you got Bright?” Gil wrinkled his nose against the scent of decay. Malcolm did his best to keep his face carefully neutral, but it was too much even for him, and he backed away from the body. The body in question must have been there for at least a week before the janitor found them. Them, being the operative word. Whoever had killed the man, who could barely have been over 25, had bound and gagged the rest of the family, mother, father, two kids, a boy and a girl, and made them watch. The eldest son had gotten off easy it seemed, a throat cut like that would have killed him within minutes. The family that were left behind to die of dehydration, wrists bruised and bleeding from their struggles, must have experienced more horror than Malcolm would ever dare to imagine. 

The house itself was dilapidated, mould spreading up the sides of the walls, cockroaches came in swarms, and a disgusting black liquid that the team had chosen to avoid like the plague. God forbid maybe it was. Despite that, the clothing that the family had been wearing was high end, the shoes alone must have been worth more than Malcolm’s paycheque.   
“The family didn’t live here. There’s no sign of breaking and entering, but the doors were locked. Whoever did this must have had access to the place.” He peered more closely at the body. “It doesn’t look like there's any other injuries, they must have come here willingly, or at the very least they were being threatened. Are you sure there were no eyewitnesses?” Gil shook his head, face grim. 

JT announced his arrival with a quick greeting to the CSI’s before he hesitated at the doorway. He and Dani had been looking around outside, but from his expression Malcolm could tell they hadn't found anything. He grimaced at the sight of the bodies.   
“Wow, our killer must’ve really hated him.” He gestured to the eldest son. Malcolm didn’t respond, thoughts spinning in his head. Gil looked at him curiously.   
“Bright?”   
“I don’t think our guy actually wanted to hurt him.”

Gil and JT shared a look. Malcolm chuckled hesitantly. “Hear me out. Our killer is organised, he’s left no evidence here, but-” he gestured to the wound on the man's throat, “-there’s a shallower wound on our vics neck, I think whoever did this didn't know how much force to use. Either he’s trying out a new method or he hasn’t killed before, my bets on the second.” When they got the call, Dani had immediately checked for similar events but nothing matched up. “It’s ambitious, going for the whole family. That indicates that they were familiar with each other, possibly he tied them up one at a time, or threatened to kill people if they didn’t comply. It’s likely he knew who they were.” He felt bile at the back of his throat. “The rest of them died of dehydration, that wouldn’t have been instant. But our guy never came back for any of them. He is confident that they won't be found. He wanted them to suffer, but not the oldest son. He might have thought that he was granting him mercy, or possibly he wanted the rest of the family to have to watch. With how organised he is I think it was to make the rest of the family suffer.” 

Gil closed his eyes, and JT looked like he might throw up. Malcolm felt the same. The children couldn’t have been more than 14 years old. Thankfully, Edrisa and Dani showed up to break them from their thoughts. Edrisa’s normal excitement was subdued, she barely even hugged Bright. Dani’s eyes were hardened, like the rest of them anything involving children was always a sore spot. Edrisa was busy fluttering around the bodies, quick and efficient as ever. They took the time to swap any information they had. 

It wasn’t long before Edrisa had made her initial analysis.   
“I'll have to check at the lab but your initial analysis is correct, one cut throat, three dehydration and one heart attack.” The team's confusion must have shown. “Oh! sorry, I should explain, that is my job after all.” Her voice rose a little, going for a joke before she caught herself, giving a polite cough. “Yeah the evidence on the fathers corpse indicates he actually died of a heart attack, I would guess the same day that the first son died. If I had to guess I would say it was the shock.” She brightened again. “Here’s something interesting though, the DNA evidence we got from the lab at first indicates that it was actually the son who tied up the rest of the family.” Malcolm was fascinated, the rest of the team not so much.  
“That is interesting, thank you Edrisa.” Gil looked exhausted.   
“Is it too early to retire?”

Several hours had passed since they got back from the scene. Malcolm stared at the board, pondering. What could have made the son tie them up? They found out the names of the family, Katelyn Marsh (53), Gary Marsh (60), and their three kids, Jason (26), Alex (14), and Mollie (12). Nobody had a bad word to say against any of them, they were all well known in the community as friendly and charitable, donating huge sums to various youth groups and rescue centres in the area. The ideal family, some would say. All of Jason’s friends confirmed that he didn’t have any enemies, he worked as a teacher in a preschool and volunteered at the nearby animal shelter at the weekends. He would never put his family in danger. Malcolm did find out that he would sometimes go to assess the homes of potential adopters for the shelter, and his working theory was that Jason had been captured in some way. His phone had been used to attract the rest of the family. 

The real issue lay in the ‘why?’. Malcolm knew better than anyone that the most perfect families could hide the most awful things, but this family had reportedly always been very open about any issues they had. He had been caught on it for several hours before he finally came across his answer. 

“Neal Morris.” Malcolm slapped the photo up onto the board, of a man in his late 50’s, with thinning, wispy grey hair and faded brown eyes. Dani frowned.  
“Morris, wasn’t one of the surg-”  
“Yep.” Dani nodded patiently, and Gil remained stationary, as if he were frozen in time. JT looked confused, and whilst Malcolm was hesitant he knew it had to be said. “Neal Morris is the brother of Blaine Morris, one of the surgeon's victims.” His heart shivered frantically in his chest, and he swallowed as he tried to calm himself. “He was shown to be in the area on the day, security cameras outside the house made a positive ID, and Mollie’s school reported seeing a man of a similar description waiting outside on several occasions.” The team was silent, so Malcolm continued. “Potential motive, his older brother was murdered, taken from just outside his house when he was 27. He saw what he described as “shady activity” but didn’t say anything at the time. We might be looking at someone who wants other families to feel the pain he does, forced to watch their family die and be able to do nothing about it.” 

He felt sick at the idea that this family, by extension, was possibly another victim of his fathers. Gil seemed to notice, and gently broke through the silence.  
“Do we know where he is?” Malcolm blinked apologetically.   
“He hasn’t been seen by his wife in several days, and hasn't been to work either. We’re looking through security footage now to see if we can track a last known location.” As if by magic, his phone rang at that moment. He answered, and was sure that his face must have paled.  
“Bright? Malcolm? Are you ok?” Gil snapped his fingers in his face, and Malcolm flinched. “What is it?” His eyes were alight with concern.   
“He was last seen at Claremont psychiatric hospital, three days ago.”

The chime of the alarm outside Martin’s door was becoming one of Malcolm’s least favorite noises, but it was always nice to see Mr David again. Of course, he didn’t dislike the alarm nearly as much as he disliked what he heard next.  
“My boy!” Martin looked as happy as ever, his eyes had a glow to them and his movements were energetic.   
“Doctor Whitley, I wish I could say it's good to see you.” Martin gave him a sly grin.   
“Oh come now my boy, is that how you speak to your father?” His grin faded when Gil entered. The two men seemed to be at a standoff for a few moments, before Gil moved to place a comforting hand on Malcolm’s shoulder. Martin tensed. “Gil, how good to see you again. It's been a while, can i get you a drink? You liked tea right?” Gil, to his credit, didn’t respond. 

“We need to know who’s come to visit you recently, it might be linked to a case we’re working on.” Malcolm tried to get straight to the point, but it was never so easy with his father.  
“Oh. Well Malcolm I know I seem so confident, but most of my friends decided to stop coming by after the whole murder thing,” he mimicked air quotes, “unfortunately I haven’t had anyone come by recently. By all means, why don’t you check with Mr David, he’s the one who monitors my visits after all.” His eyes lost that spark they had before, and Malcolm knew he was telling the truth. He said as much to Gil. Martin’s expression didn’t change when he spoke again.  
Perhaps, however, if I could have a little… father-son bonding time, I could be of more use.” Gil almost stepped over the line, but Malcolm held him back.   
“It’s okay Gil, it’ll only take a minute.” The older man still looked hesitant, unwilling to leave his adopted son alone with the serial killer. After a moment of contemplation he sighed.   
“Ok, but only for a minute.”

Once the room was empty, and the door closed, Malcolm turned back to his father. His father had a smile on his face, the one he always had when he got what he wanted.   
“What did you want to talk about?”  
“Oh, am I not allowed to just want some time with you? It has been a while after all. Of course I cant say i’m not interested in this case of yours, the way you barged in? Why, anyone would think I was in danger.” He must have seen something in Malcolm’s eyes, when he let out an ‘ah’ of victory. “I see. So who’s the special guy?”  
“Neal Morris, he killed a whole family nearby and was last seen outside Claremont.”  
“Morris, where do I know that name? Oh yes, that would have been-”  
“If you don’t know anything, then I’m just wasting my time here.” He was glad that he sounded as impatient as he felt. Martin gave an exaggerated sigh and an eye roll. 

They were interrupted by the sound of the buzzer as the door opened. Malcolm didn’t bother to turn around, he presumed Gil must have had enough with the waiting. It wasn’t until he saw Martin’s face turn to one of horror that he realised it may have been a mistake. 

The pressure was what he felt first, on his lower back, just to the right of his spine. A hand grasped around his neck, but he barely had time to raise his arms before the pressure was back, just above where it was before.. The pressure turned to pain, then to agony. He couldn’t hold in an involuntary grunt as the knife was pulled out again, letting out a hiss between clenched teeth as the agony spread fiercely across his back. The hand grasping his neck didn’t let go, even when he tried to pull it away, eyes flaring white with pain. His breath caught in his throat, and he let out another fearful hiss. A splattering noise like rainwater made him try to thrash as he panicked, the pain was so severe that he tried to pull away from it. His thoughts felt muddled and unfamiliar. 

Another thump sent a burst of agony across the other side of his back, and this time his legs buckled underneath him. The hand on his throat wrapped around his chest, holding him upright. He let out a scream this time. He was so distracted that he didn’t even realise when the arm let go, and he dropped to the ground, as limp as a ragdoll. He sucked air into his heaving chest, reaching around to try and paw at his back. Any movement made the wounds flare up again, so he let out a whimper and lay still. The panic was lessening now that he wasn’t being touched, and he was able to register what was happening around him. A repetitive thumping noise came from the door, muffled desperate shouts coming through. ‘Gil’, Malcolm’s brain supplied helpfully. Meanwhile, He could see his father tugging frantically against his restraints, streaming profanities at whoever had done this. Based on current events, Malcolm could only assume it was Morris. 

A low groan broke out of him as another wave of agony broke over him. He was lying on his front, but could only roll onto his side before the pain became too much. He groaned again, turning into a soft wail when it didn’t ease. His heart pounded in his chest when he noticed a pool of red underneath him, slowly spreading outward. His fear made him want to sob, but he forced himself to hold it in. He needed to be calm if he was going to work out a way out of this. With that in mind, he was able to take in his attacker. 

Neal was taller than he had expected, at least six foot with broad shoulders. His eyes were cold and dark, his posture hunched and tensed. He was glaring at Martin with fresh grief evident on his face. The words faded back into reality.   
“Leave him alone you sick bastard! I’ll kill you, I’LL KILL YOU!” Martin’s voice was high and frantic, jerking everytime he strained against the bonds. Neal just replied tearfully.   
“You already have. You killed my brother.” He was evidently distressed, and Malcolm could see that he played almost no role in this. All he was was the leverage, the pawn in the game. He would be offended if he didn’t think it gave him an advantage. 

“Neal.” His voice was shaking and weak, but he was relieved he was able to make any noise at all. The attention of both men snapped to him immediately.   
“Malcolm! It’s gonna be ok, listen to me Malcolm you’re gonna be-” he was cut off by a smack from Neal.  
“Shut up! You don’t get to talk.”   
“Neal please, this won’t bring Blaine back.” Neal let out a furious sob.   
“You think I don't know that? Nothing is going to bring my brother back, but this bastard needs to pay for what he did. I’m sorry it had to be you, but you’re the only one he cares about.” Malcolm tried to respond but he couldn’t help another cry of pain escaping him. Neal actually looked sorry. His dad let out another shout. 

Just behind his father, he could see Eve. she was dressed all in white, as radiant as she had been before she died. She was so beautiful. Of all the hallucinations he had experienced in his life, this one was probably the nicest. She didn’t try to come closer, just standing there peacefully. 

“I truly am sorry Malcolm. He needs to understand.” Neal’s voice broke his concentration. As much as he hated it, Malcolm understood too. Despite everything he actually felt an element of pity for this man, not much on account of the family murder but a little. He had felt that pain in himself. He wanted to convey this but his body wouldn’t obey him, leaving him twitching in agony from his place on the floor. The worst part was that he couldn’t even do anything to try and stop the bleeding. Neal rose back to his feel, and reached into his waistband., and Malcolm made the connection before it happened.

In one swift movement, Neal pulled a gun out, and with a final look at Malcolm, he turned to Martin. “Burn in hell you bastard.” With that, he shot himself in the head. Malcolm could only stare in stunned silence, momentarily distracted from the pain. It didn’t last long however as the thumping at the door continued. He could make out Gil’s voice.  
“Hold on Mal, SWAT’s on their way they'll be able to get through the door.” Malcolm wished he could respond in some way but it was all he had to keep breathing. The taste of copper tracked up his throat, making him gag with revulsion. Martin must have noticed.   
“Malcolm, Malcolm tell me what you’re feeling. Come on my boy let me help you.” Malcolm opened his mouth and the liquid trickled out of the corner, but his vocal chords were not cooperating. Martin actually looked panicked. 

Malcolm was drawn back into a memory, being with his father in the basement. His dad had been helping him with his science homework, promising that his boy would get the highest grade in the class. He was such a great teacher too, he knew just how to make it fun. Malcolm would giggle as they roleplayed being pirates and doctors, until his mother would tell them to be quiet and Martin would look at him sheepishly. 

His name being called broke him out of his memory, and he let out a low moan as his body gave an involuntary jerk. More blood was coming out of his mouth, and he gave a weak cough trying to dislodge the unpleasant sensation. He let out a sigh as his body trembled.   
“Come on Malcolm, I need you to get yourself over the line. I can't reach you there. Come on Mal please.” Malcolm felt a flash of irritation, only Gil got to call him Mal. There was so much blood, all over his side and arms, pooling around him and drenching his clothes. His shirt stuck to him, coldly pressing against his ribcage with every breath. The sensation was unbearable, but he couldn’t do anything about it. Eve flickered faintly in the background. 

He knew that Martin was right, so he fought against the burning pain and exhaustion to push a hand underneath him. With a strained grunt, he was able to push himself up slightly, but his hand slipped on the blood. He collapsed back onto the ground, gasping. His vision was covered with tiny black stars, and he felt too lightheaded and disoriented to try again. The movement jostled more blood out of his mouth and back. He tried to think about something, anything to distract himself from the pain. He thought of Ainsley’s most recent birthday, when they spent a full hour hidden upstairs from their mother, quietly laughing every time she shouted something more ridiculous. She caught them eventually but it had been fun until then. It was the happiest he could remember being in a long time. 

He was dragged back to the present again, this time by Dani’s voice. He had no clue when she had gotten here, but it was nice to hear her. He didn’t have the strength to turn over to look at her, so he settled for imagining her face.   
“Come on Bright, you’re not dying like this. Not after everything. SWAT’s only a few minutes away you just need to hold on.” Malcolm wanted her to know he could hear her, so he tried to speak but couldn’t get out more than a rasp. Martin’s reaction made him hope she would know he tried. 

The lightheadedness was stronger now, and he felt oddly disjointed from his body. The pain was dulling now to a low but ever present ache, and he couldn’t do more than twitch his fingers. His vision had faded into a tunnel, and determined to not look to Martin for help he gazed vaguely into the distance. All the noises were fading now, he was sure that Martin was speaking but the words didn’t make sense anymore. Nothing really made sense anymore, his thoughts were vapid and fleeting. His anxiety wasn’t as strong anymore, almost like he had accepted this. He supposed he had, to an extent. He spent his whole life waiting for this, for his fathers actions to finally catch up to him. For his actions to catch up to him, he was a monster after all. He only hoped that Gil didn’t blame himself, and that his family didn’t grieve for too long. They had so much to give this world, even if they could all be annoying at points. He loved them so much. 

The darkness was so tempting now, pulling him in slowly and gently. He didn’t think he could hold on for much longer now. A soft hand took his, and he knew without looking that it was Eve. She was here for him, and he was ready. His body gave a final powerful jerk as the last wave of pain thrummed through him, before he fell completely still. After a final, gentle breath, he let himself slip away.


End file.
